


Way Walker Chronicles: Avengers Edition

by BairnSidhe



Category: Fantastic Four (Movieverse), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dimension Travel, Gen, Multiple POV's, The Avengers respond to this like normal people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:18:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2005482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BairnSidhe/pseuds/BairnSidhe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thrown across dimensions, Eve finds herself in the home of her greatest heroes.  Confronted with a woman who falls out of nowhere and wears confusing clothes, the Avengers respond like any sane person...badly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On Way Walkers, Trouble Magnets and Sticky Situations--Eve

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is sort of a series of drabble-esque flash fics instead of real chapters. If you don't like short chapters, avert your eyes. I also wound up switching pov a lot, so each chapter's title will have the name of the POV character.

I really do try to avoid situations like this; I swear I don’t aim for them.  It sometimes feels like they aim for me, though.  So yet again I find myself here, on the corner of Rock and Hard Place.  Decisions, decisions.  But perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself.  I should at least tell  _you_  who and what I am, even if I hold out on my hosts.

My alias is Scion, but my chosen use-name is Eve, primarily due to my odd sense of humor.  That’s the best, simplest answer I can give as to ‘who’ I am.  The only halfway decent answer to ‘what’ I am is a bit more complicated.

I’m a Walker of the Ways.  Every world, in every alternate dimension, in every universe in the great macrocosmic constellation has at least one Walker.  We act like white-blood cells for reality, time and space.  We’re supposed to be able to travel in all three, and with enough effort, we  _can_ , but most of us stick to one or two ‘home-turf’ dimensions.  For instance, I find it very hard to move in space in any manner outside of the normal methods.  Very hard as in ‘Kobayashi Maru’.  Time is another tricky one, but not as impossible as space.  It’s more like the Voyage of the Kon-Tiki in hyper-space.  But traveling through realities?  Dimension hopping?  Easy.  So easy that sometimes, if I’m not careful, I just ‘fall’, for lack of a better word, right out of my home reality.

Which brings me to where I am now, tied to a chair in Avengers Tower.  They seem understandably upset that I fell out of nowhere onto their coffee table.  They want answers; they want to know all of what I just told you, all of everything.  But mostly what they want to know is why I’m wearing a shirt that reads:

#CoulsonLives


	2. Along came a spider ---3rd person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha talks to Eve.

The Avengers looked down at their captive intruder. Physically she wasn’t that impressive, just a short, slightly chubby woman in flannel pajama pants covered in comic-book onomatopoeia bursts, topped with an oversized white tee bearing the legend that made them all so anxious and irritable.

No, the girl before them wasn’t strong or powerful-looking, and hadn’t even fought back when Clint insisted that she be restrained for questioning. But there was something of a quiet potency in her eyes as she docilely sat in the steel-frame bar chair, being duct-taped to it. Something about her that sent the message, “I’ll allow this for your peace of mind, because it doesn’t really make a difference to me.” There was no fear, no nervousness, and most irritating to Tony, no awe.

Natasha was the first to interrogate her, in hopes another woman could get more out of her. The girl didn’t appear to be listening, let alone answering any questions. Telling the male heroes to back away to relieve tension did yield an answer, as Black widow tried for sisterly.

“We’re alone now, and I promise to keep your confidence. Just tell me something I can use to convince the others that you’re harmless.”

“I’m not harmless, though.” The girl’s mellow voice was a low, almost smoky alto. “Which would be why I’m keeping quiet. I have knowledge that could destroy this team, knowledge they’re sure to continue asking for. So just to forestall the inevitable I’ll give you an example of what I mean, so you can go tell them not to poke the tiger.”

“We’ll see. I’m not sure Tony or Bruce has ever turned down knowledge, and I’m not easily impressed.”

"I’m well aware of the inability of your teammates to recognize Monkey’s Paw scenarios, as well as your own unflappable nature.”

“So you know that this had better be good.” 

“It will certainly be effective, but it’s ambiguous whether or not you’d call it ‘good’. The man known as Winter Soldier, your lover, disappeared into the night without a word to you, or to your knowledge, anyone. It left you bitter, leading to your life as an assassin.”

“Anyone with access to my dossier would know that.” The red-headed spy’s voice was cold with anger, as she leaned on the chair arms, pushing her face close to the still-bound source of her ire. “So far, all you’ve told me is that S.H.I.E.L.D. needs to go plug a few leaks.”

"I’m not done, yet. That was just a probe to see if you still remembered him. The real mind blower is this: Winter Soldier is alive. And he isn’t who you think he is; he never was.”

“Then who was he, hmm?”

“You sure you want to know?” Seeing Black Widow’s look, she hastily continued. “Once upon a time, he was James Buchanan Barnes.”


	3. The Man with the Golden Armor ---3rd person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony tries his hand at talking to Eve. It does not end well.

Black Widow returned to the group with a startling change in attitude.  Seeming shaken, she insisted that the frumpy-looking girl was dangerous enough that challenging her was a hazard, and the best option to do as she said.  Needless to say, her team did not agree.  While they argued with her, Tony slipped out of the room to go speak to the girl himself.  He’d convinced himself that with his track record with beautiful women, dealing with one plain Jane would be a snap.

          “So, I’m Tony Stark, head of Stark Industries.  You might recognize my  _superhero_  name better, though.”  With the brilliant smile that had netted him playboy bunnies and European heiresses, he lay on his master stroke.  “I’m Iron Man.”

The girl was not impressed.  “I know who you are.  I just don’t care.  The look you mistake for ignorance is a symptom of my broken give-a-damn.”

“Look here, you little….” He fought for control of his emotions.  “I demand answers.  Who are you? How did you get into my home?  Why does your shirt say that?”

“I’m not sure you’re ready to know those answers.  And of all of you, you’re the  _last_  person I’d trust with my secrets.  You literally can’t keep a secret to save your life, and the alcoholism isn’t doing you any favors.”

          “ALCOHOLISM!?!”  Tony’s angry shout brought the others at a dead run.  Suddenly seeing the stupidity in angering a drunken superhero, the bound woman shot a desperate look to the Avenger closest to her, Captain America.  The Super Soldier successfully restrained his friend, but the look her gave her promised that his own turn with her would necessitate new answers.


	4. Out of time --- Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain America gets his answers.

After Tony had been settled in somewhere else, presumably with some booze, if my guess had been correct and he was indeed at the alcoholic stage, the living legend re-entered the room.  I knew I’d have to face him sooner or later, but it wasn’t something I looked forward to.  Steve’s always been a personal hero, and I don’t like the idea of lying to him, even when the answers he’s sure to ask are potential dynamite.

“Miss, you certainly have some explaining to do.”  Steve pulled an armchair up so he could sit, placing his eyes much closer to level with my own.  A move calculated to put me at ease, it did anything but.  I forced myself to look him in the eye, though I knew I’d be regretting that choice soon. 

Sure enough his incredibly sincere tone and those baby-blues started to work on me right away.  “Can you tell me your name, for starters?  A name can’t be too dangerous, can it?”

“Depends on whose name it is.  But I suppose I need to give you  _something_  to call me.”  Sighing, I wished he weren’t so goddamn cute.  “You can call me Eve.”

“Thank you, Eve.  Now would you mind telling me how you got in here?  Security is something we take fairly seriously round here.”

“Well, I could give you an honest answer, or one that makes sense, but not both.  The truth’s going to sound like a lie, to be frank, and I’d rather you not think I’m a liar, Steve.”

“Promise to tell me the truth, and no matter how strange it sounds, I’ll at least give it a chance.  Deal?”

“Deal.  Well, what happened was, I was watching a Marvel movie marathon when I sneezed really hard, the kind that throws your equilibrium off, yah know?  So it put me out of balance, and I lost my grip on my home reality and fell into the reality I’d been immersed in all day.  Your reality.”

Steve paused for a long moment.  “I’m not sure I quite got all that.  Run it by me again?”

“Not gonna help much, I’m afraid.  I don’t teach remedial classes in fifth dimensional physics.  I wouldn’t know how to bring it to a manageable level.”  Oh boy.  Damn, now I’d have to involve Tony again after having done such a smashing job antagonizing him.  Wait, smashing….  “Get Bruce over here, I can have him translate.”


	5. Smash hit--- Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lesson in dimensional travel...or a lesson in why Life Isn't Fair.

It never fails to amaze me how close the movies come to being right on the nose with the casting choices, without being perfect.  Of course, some are better than others.  The Tony I’d pissed off was a dead ringer for Robert Downey Junior, but the Bruce I now faced wasn’t either Norton or Ruffalo.  Perhaps a blending of the two, with Norton’s gangly intellectual’s body but with the smirk and humor of Ruffalo.  The gleam in his eyes as I described the physics behind what I do certainly was reminiscent of the actor who’d played in the Avengers movie.  Of course, I carefully omitted any facts that would enable him to duplicate what I do, instead focusing on the base theory and blaming genetic predisposition for my reality hopping.  As with everything, the truth was a bit more complicated.

“So, if what you’re saying is true, why haven’t you used it to go home?  Why not poof yourself back where you came from before we ever got you pinned down? ” The question from Steve was vastly trickier to answer than any of the questions Bruce had needed answered, but for a more personal reason.  What can I say?  I have pride.

“I tried.  Unfortunately reality flows like a river and my home dimension is way, way upstream.  The only reason I fell so far was that I’d been watching the movies all day.  Twelve hours of highly immersive films will open the way for a lot of things.”

“I still don’t get the thing about movies being made of us.  If we live in an alternate universe, how would anyone know to make a movie about us, unless everyone in your universe knows about this stuff?”  The gleam of scientific delight was dulled slightly by confusion.  It was probably a rhetorical question, but as it was asked aloud and was easier to answer than any other I’d been asked so far, I answered it.

“Certain individuals in almost every world are blessed, or cursed, with the ability to see, but not enter, other worlds.  We call them conduits, and they’re credited with great inspiration and creativity, but the truth is...”

“Complicated, we know.”  Bruce seemed a bit embarrassed he’d interrupted.  “Sorry.  That  _is_  your favorite word it seems. Please continue.”

“As I was saying, the truth behind great creative inspiration isn’t what most people think.  Not even the conduits themselves know for a fact what’s happening, usually.  The conduit that brought your world to life in mine is named Stan Lee.  He writes comic books.  They’re pretty popular, and some of them get turned into movies.  Marvel Studios has made seven, eight as of November, based solely around you guys.”

“Seven movies?”  When Bruce’s eyebrows rocketed up like that I could totally see the resemblance to Mark Ruffalo.  “How is that possible, we only even  _became_  Avengers a year and a half ago.”

“Well, Iron Man and The Incredible Hulk came out in 2008, Iron Man 2 in 2010, Thor and Captain America: The First Avenger in 2011, then The Avengers in 2012.  Iron Man 3 was supposed to come out that same year around Christmas, but the star broke his ankle and they had to push it to the next May.  The second Thor is an early November release this year, and the second Captain America is slated for April.” The eyebrows of both heroes shot up simultaneously.  “Sorry about fangirling on you there, I just really love the movies.”

“Wait, Tony got  _three_?”  I looked around, twisting in the chair, to see Clint had snuck up on the conversation, evidently long enough ago to have heard my explanation of conduits.  He didn’t look happy.  “Tony gets three movies and Nat and I get none?  How is that fair?”

“Well, Natasha did have a very substantial role in Iron Man 2, including the best combat scene.  And you were in Thor…”  I didn’t want to tell him it was more of a cameo, but since he lived it he probably already knew how little a part he’d played.

“Still not seeing the fairness.  Also not seeing an explanation of the shirt.  So we’re all movie characters, big whoop.  Tell me why your shirt claims something patently not true, then I’ll consider what you say.”


	6. Hawk's Eye View ---Clint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint gets yelled at, but at least he gets answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I thought it was just going to be 3rd person and Eve, but Clint's a pushy bastard who insisted if he didn't get a movie he should get a POV.

“I can’t tell you that.  It would destroy your team.  I’ve said that before, you know.  Repeatedly.”  The girl’s chin was set at a stubborn angle.  The fire in her eyes promised a fight if I kept pushing.  Fortunately, I like fighting.

“And I’ve said ‘that’s not good enough’ before.  Repeatedly.”  By God I was going to get answers, even if it meant pissing off the extra dimensional geek girl.  “Phil Coulson was a good friend, the guy who made me an agent.  Without him I might have gone a very different route.”

“Robbing banks like Barney?  Yeah, I can see how you’d be grateful, but no go on the info.  There are some things you just don’t need to know.”

Wait, how the hell did she know about my brother?  It couldn’t have been in a movie because I apparently don’t rate a movie.  Not that I’m mad or anything, well actually, yeah, I’m a little mad.  “How do you know about Barney, stalker lady?”

“Firstly, I told you these stories were comics before they were movies.  Your comic-book explains in detail just about everything in your origin story; the car accident, Carson’s, the thefts, the Swordsman, your brother, all of it.  And secondly, I’m a  _fan,_  not a stalker.  I’m no more stalking you than you stalk Lara Croft.”

We were getting off topic.  “Not the point.  The point is, what does that shirt mean?”

“It means you don’t _own_ the pain of his death!” The shout burst out like a gunshot.  Her face was flushed, and I could have sworn I saw tears forming before she blinked.  That suspicion was confirmed when she spoke again; her voice choked with either pain or anger.  “It means you weren’t the only person to grieve.  You’ve heard that denial is one of the seven stages of grief, right?  Well after The Avengers, every fanboy-or-girl and their _dog_ was in massive grieving.  Coulson was well-loved, and then the director pulled a Wash on him….Many fans refused to accept it, fought back, conspiracy theories spread like crabs at an orgy, all of it with the hash tag CoulsonLives. In this world he was mourned by what, the hundred or so people who called him friend?”  Her voice stabilized, but the anger in her eyes remained hard and unflinching.  “In my world he was mourned by  _millions_.  A great tide of soul-tearing pain so intense that even the non-fans felt it.”

I wasn’t sure I believed her, and I’m sure she saw my skepticism because her eyes went all soft and distant as she continued, obviously remembering something.

“I was in a midnight showing when I saw it.  All about me, die-hard fans, people who had just stood in line for _hours_ , shot to their feet and cried foul.  I saw grown men  _cry_ , I heard people who would have moments before sworn Joss Whedon was _God_ curse his name for taking Coulson from them.”

“The guy who does Buffy?”  Now that was a non sequitur.  “What’s he got to do with it?”

“He directed the film.  My point though is that you think that just because you saw him in the flesh, you have the monopoly on grief.  You don’t.  He was no less real to me, my pain no less real than yours.  So please, for the love ‘a God, leave it be.”

Her emotions seemed real; her eyes had gone misty with memory as she spoke.  I believed her.  Suddenly it seemed selfish and petty to keep her tied to a chair.  “Untie her.  She’s not the threat I thought.”


End file.
